


Stranger I Know

by Homicidal Whispers (HomicidalWhispers)



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomicidalWhispers/pseuds/Homicidal%20Whispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata has never been a very impulsive person, nor the very confident or outgoing sort. He’s never been promiscuous, not even flirtatious – the sort that would pine from a distance and become amazing friends, but never anything more. So, it’s surprising to him when he sleeps with Komaeda the first day that they meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger I Know

Hinata has never been a very impulsive person, nor the very confident or outgoing sort. He’s the kind to take what he wants, yes, and to speak his mind if he must; still, though, he’d rather avoid the hassle. He waits until the last possible moment before acting. He’s never been promiscuous, not even flirtatious – the sort that would pine from a distance and become amazing friends, but never anything more. So, it’s surprising to him when he sleeps with Komaeda the first day that they meet.

He wakes up on a strange beach when he should be in Hope’s Peak for his first day of a school. There’s a strange boy with strange white hair leaning over him. The boy introduces himself as Komaeda Nagito, and from there things only get increasingly stranger. Komaeda tells him to go meet the rest of the students on the island, but he doesn’t leave Hinata’s side.

The day only gets odder as it progresses, but Komaeda remains a constant, stabilizing presence next to him. He’s rarely more than a hand span away. He tucks himself close to, murmuring information about each kid they meet intimately into his ear. It should be uncomfortable to have a stranger so close to him, but it’s not. If anything, Hinata appreciates his presence.

The thing is, Komaeda doesn’t _feel_ like a stranger; he feels like he’s always been there – or rather that he’s inserted himself into a gap that Hinata hadn’t realized needed filling. In a situation like this, he’d be more off-balance without him there, and so he’s grateful. Komaeda’s a little weird in the way he smiles a bit too wide and remains unfailingly polite, but more than that, he’s attractive. Unconventionally so, sure, but attractive nonetheless. From the moment they met, Hinata’s been itching to get his hands into Komaeda’s unruly hair. His green eyes are vivid and whenever they’re directed at him, Hinata feels like he’s being peeled apart by the seams and looked into. It’s too hot for the jacket Komaeda’s wearing, and Hinata would happily volunteer to take him out of it.

Somehow, Komaeda wants the same from him. Hinata can tell as much, although he is uncertain why someone as eccentrically pretty as him would want someone as average as him. Still, Hinata cannot deny the obvious: Komaeda wants him, and Komaeda knows that he knows and reciprocates.

And it’s obvious in the tension between them. As they traverse the island, meeting new people, they get odd looks from people who can see the charged air between them.

It’s sort of understood that neither of them will mention the tension there themselves, but the silence instills a kind of insecurity in Hinata. It’s there, he knows it’s there. He’d be blind not to notice. Still, he’s nervous because there’s a chance, albeit a slim one, that’s he’s misread the situation and will make a fool of himself if he acts on his desire. It’s the same fear that has kept him from acting in the pass with others. He’s already mentally filed Komaeda away as another one that will get away.

Things come to a head at the supermarket. They meet Saionji who, frankly, seems wholly disinterested in anything they say or do.

“They have _everything_ here,” she informs them childishly. She makes a face. “Even _dirty_ stuff. Who knows what could happen to a girl as cute as me will all these things here?”

The dirty things she’s referring to turns out to be several stacks of lube and condoms. Hinata has to wonder why they’re there – they’re not the kind of items usually found on brazen display in a supermarket. It’s even more out of place on a resort island; such a lewd display could dissuade visitors from coming. Moreover, what kind of school would take students somewhere that had things like this so readily available? None of it seems to make very much sense.

Saionji loses interest in them soon after and Hinata moves on to introduce himself to the others in the market, Ibuki and Tsumiki. While he’s struggling through a conversation with Tsumiki, he feels rather than sees Komaeda wonder away from his side at last. He catches sight of him over the nurse’s shoulder. He’s over by the things they just found and, as Hinata watches, he crams a tube of the lube and an entire roll of the condoms into one of the many large pockets on his jacket. Then he looks up and catches Hinata’s eye, looking straight at him with the same placid expression, the same mild smile.

Hinata looks away quickly. Vaguely, he notices that his sudden blush and evasion has worried Tsumiki; she’s stuttering and tripping over herself more than ever now. Still, he can’t think of that right now. Only one thought runs through his head, over and over on repeat: Komaeda had known he was looking. Komaeda had known that he was looking and had done it anyway. Perhaps he had even done it _because_ he knew that Hinata had been looking.

It is almost appalling how forward Komaeda has been. Still though, his goal had been accomplished – Komaeda’s intentions had been fairly obvious from the beginning, but now there is no room for misinterpretation.

* * *

The day has been a crazy one and Hinata returns gratefully to his cabin for the night, exhausted. His mind feels crowded and overwrought by confusion and new information. The day seems nonsensical. Is he meant to believe everything that’s he’s been told – that he’s on some school trip with his new classmates and a stuffed rabbit chaperone, with no recollection of how he had gotten there?

Part of the confusion is caused by Komaeda, who had eventually left Hinata to his own devices. That confusion, however, is altogether of a different sort.

With a weary sigh, Hinata sets a kettle to boil and collapses at the table. He takes a moment to appreciate how well-stocked this cabin really is – almost like a little house all to himself, preemptively prepared with anything that he could possibly need or want. He tries not to think of the implications of that, but it creeps in anyway, a silent predator amongst his thoughts: he isn’t intended to be going home any time soon.

A high-pitched whistle prompts him back to his feet and he absently goes through the motions of preparing a cup of tea. Just as he’s about to return to his seat, there’s a knock on the door. Inwardly, he wonders who would be calling on him so late at night – nearing eleven pm, last he had checked – as he outwardly drops off the cup at the table and goes to the door.

He sees Komaeda through the peephole and starts. Of course it would be him – who else? For a slight moment, he considers ignoring it, feigning that he’s asleep. But Komaeda’s got his head turned down, his hands jammed into his pocket and his shoulders hunched in on himself. He looks so downtrodden, like he’d never expected to get a response, but decided to try anyway. Hinata can’t just ignore him when he looks like that.

He opens the door. Komaeda looks up, his countenance brightening so quickly that Hinata has to wonder if his demeanor before was faked. “Hinata-kun!” he says, his tone so cheerful that Hinata takes a reflexive step back. “I didn’t expect you to answer; it’s so late after all. I thought I’d try anyway, though. I really do have super high school level good luck after all!”

“Ah, Komaeda,” is all Hinata can really think to say. Komaeda continues to stand there, watching him like he would be content to stand on that stoop all night. Eventually, because he can’t find any other action available, he steps back. Komaeda somehow seems to glow even brighter as he enters Hinata’s cabin. By the time Hinata’s closed the door behind him, Komaeda has seated himself at the little table.

Hinata remains standing and gestures awkwardly to the cooling cup of tea. “Did you want some? The water should still be hot.”

“Could I have some coffee? I understand if that’s too much of an inconvenience, I wouldn’t want you to go too far out of your way just for someone like me. Actually, never mind, tea would be great!”

“Coffee is fine,” Hinata says shortly, interrupting Komaeda’s stream of words. He remembers passing a coffee machine when he found the kettle and there had been some coffee beans in the cabinet. He personally isn’t a huge fan of it, but with some thought, he thinks he can remember to how to make.

He does the best he can with the machine, uncomfortably aware of Komaeda’s eyes on him, ogling him. He doesn’t know what Komaeda sees when he looks; Hinata’s not very athletic in build. He doesn’t have broad shoulders or a strong back. Then again, neither does Komaeda, and Hinata knows he’d be looking just as hard if their situations were reversed. Still, Komaeda’s gaze is almost uncomfortably hot, burning on his back, and he feels like he’s being stripped down and spread open.

He returns to the table, taking the seat opposite Komaeda and finally taking the first sip of his tea. Komaeda says nothing and gives no reason for hissudden appearance. Neither does he look away from Hinata, his expression somehow conveying equal amounts of serenity and lascivious suggestion.

A tense, awkward silence forms. Only a few minutes later, it is interrupted by the beep of the coffee machine. For what feels like the umpteenth time, Hinata breaks the eye contact to heave himself up out of his chair.

He prepares a cup of the bitter liquid. Komaeda offers no indication of preference, so Hinata takes a guess based on that morning’s breakfast and adds sugar, but no milk.

Komaeda favors him with an inordinately pleased smile as returns to the table, turning to watch him approach. “That’s exactly the way I like it, Hinata-kun!” he says. Hinata can’t tell if he’s being truthful or just saying what he thinks Hinata wants to hear.

As he reaches forward to take the cup, Hinata can see how one side of his jacket resists movement, like he’s got something heavy sitting in his pocket. He remembers what Komaeda had put in there earlier and he flushes with the idea that Komaeda could be so impertinent as to show up to his room in the dead of night, prepared with that kind of stuff.

There’s a crash and the tinkling of glass falling to the ground in pieces. For a moment, the noise fails to register. The two of them sit still, staring down at the broken cup and the drink seeping slowly out of the pieces. Hinata realizes he’s dropped the cup, but can’t bring himself do anything about it.

Komaeda moves first. “I’m sorry, that must have been my fault,” he says. He makes to get off of the chair, to sink to his knees and pick up the pieces. Hinata intercepts him before he can, clutching the fabric of his collar and throwing himself messily into Komaeda’s space. It’s the most impulsive thing he’s ever done, he thinks, but Komaeda has done nothing but proven that he will be received.

Komaeda doesn’t let him down. Hinata’s kiss lands clumsy and off-center, but Komaeda only leans in to it, his hands going to cup the back of Hinata’s head and readjust the position. It’s immediately clear that Komaeda’s got more experience – or at least more knowledge of the general principle – but he isn’t off-put by Hinata’s inelegance. The damnable smile never disappears; Hinata can feel the upturned corners of his mouth against his own.

Hinata pulls back to breathe. Komaeda makes this aborted movement, like he’s trying to both let him go and pull him in closer. Hinata relents for a moment, but pulls again quickly. This position they’re in isn’t comfortable at all. With Komaeda still mostly seated, Hinata has to bend far over to reach him and his back is already starting to protest.

He doesn’t want to let the moment go, though. His choices are clear – he can either get down to Komaeda’s level or bring Komaeda up to his. He considers momentarily going to sit in Komaeda’s lap, but he’s still too reserved for that, flustered by the thought of being so bold.

So instead, he tugs on the fistful of clothing he has in his grasp. Komaeda stands willingly. Once on his feet, he wraps himself around Hinata like a vine and he goes off balance, and he stumbles. The kiss breaks and suddenly, things don’t make sense anymore. Komaeda is still clinging onto him, but Hinata can’t find it in himself to make eye contact.

“Um,” he says brilliantly. “Was – I mean, was that okay?”

“Absolutely, Hinata-kun,” he answers easily, like nothing has changed, like nothing is different between them. “If it’s what you would like to do, then of course it’s okay with me!”

“Right,” he says dubiously, “but did you _like_ it?”

Komaeda tilts his head in that birdlike way of his, somehow endearingly familiar although they’ve only known each other for less than a day. “Of course I liked it,” he says, and he says it like it should be obvious. “It was _you_ after all.”

And in its own sort of weird way, that does answer his question. He can breathe now, assured that Komaeda wants this just as much as he does; that he’s doing this because he wants to, not because he feels like he should reciprocate. “Okay,” he says. He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says again. “I’m going to – I’m gonna kiss you again.”

“Okay,” Komaeda says breezily, a little bit breathlessly.

Standing is a whole different playing field than sitting. Hinata’s got to stretch up somewhat awkwardly to catch his mouth, and his eyes fall shut before they meet. Just like last time, it doesn’t land where he wants it to and their noses bump together a little bit and he can feel himself flush from embarrassment. But then, Komaeda brings his hands to just above Hinata’s tailbone, pushing him closer, and he tilts his head just slightly and there’s a wet presence at his mouth that’s probably Komaeda’s tongue. He opens his mouth, somewhat awkwardly, but from there the kiss only gets so much better.

Komaeda’s tongue probes deep in his mouth, sliding slick over his own. His hands roam possessively, here at the back of his shirt, then clutching his hair, next cupping his face equal parts desperate and gentle. He kisses Hinata like he’s starving for it, like he cannot get enough for it, like he’s afraid it will go away.

Komaeda looms tall over him, pressing over him, forcing his feet to move lest he stumble. They’re heading for the bed and he feels a flash of panic; there’s no doubt what will happen if they make it over there. He isn’t the type of person to do this, to sleep with a total stranger.

But then again, he can’t remember getting on this island. It’s clear that his memories have been stolen; maybe just a few days, but a few years could’ve easily been taken. Maybe this _is_ the type of person he is now. Or maybe this is his body instinctively reacting to Komaeda, remembering what he doesn’t. He’s felt it all along after all – despite having met for the first time today, Komaeda doesn’t feel like a stranger.

Hinata’s knees hit the back of the bed and Komaeda follows him down. For a moment, his weight is smothering but then he shifts and Hinata realizes how light he really is.

“Take this off,” he mumbles and tugs at his jacket. Obediently, Komaeda sits up on his haunches and strips it off – finally – but it doesn’t go too far. Next goes his shirt, thrown off with no command and no hesitation.

He’s frightfully thin, Hinata sees. His negligible weight makes sense when he sees his slender body. His ribs, clavicles, and hipbones all jut out, painfully sharp and stretched tight over his skin. He strokes down his back and can feel the sharp point of each vertebra. No wonder his clothes seem to swaddle him.

Komaeda stretches out to take Hinata’s free hand, interlacing their fingers slowly as though he’s afraid he’ll be rejected this intimacy. He’s so pale that Hinata can see the bluish veins under his travelling from his wrist up the length of his arm; he finds matching hues under his eyes when their eyes meet.

He’s not conventionally attractive, but he’s still beautiful. Hinata sets one hand on his hip and looks up at him, trying to convey the sentiment without saying something that embarrassing out loud. He doesn’t know if his meaning is received, but he thinks it is; Komaeda smiles down at him and somehow, this smile seems more real than any other he’s seen before.

“Yours too,” he says and then ducks his head. “If you want to, that is. I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t!”

“Just take it off already,” Hinata mumbles.

Komaeda leans down and kisses him again, slowly, sweetly. He’s not frantic like before; his tongue presses in and licks in deep while his fingers work at the knot of his tie and then the buttons of Hinata’s shirt. They have to part to push it fully off of his shoulders. Hinata avoids his eyes as Komaeda touches his bare skin reverently with touches light enough to be nearly ticklish.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda says. “You’re really handsome. I’m so lucky that someone like _you_ would want to do this with someone like _me_.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he denies, even though he obviously is. “And what do you mean ‘someone like me?’ There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Komaeda puts his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it!” he assuages. “It’s just that someone like Hinata-kun – someone so talented – is on a completely different level compared to someone like me. A talent like good luck could never compare to a talent like yours.”

Hinata stares at him. “I can’t even remember what my talent is. It could be something completely useless, like,” he pauses, struggling to come up with an example.

“Super High School Level Stamp Collector?” Komaeda suggests with a light laugh. “No, it’s something undoubtedly great; someone as full of hope as you _must_ have a great talent.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hinata says. Komaeda doesn’t answer, just stares at him like he thinks Komaeda hung the moon in the sky for him. It’s more than a little intimidating, the silence is, so he gets a hand at the back of his head and drags him down. Kissing, now that he’s got the hang of it, is easy.

Komaeda’s as enthusiastic as ever when he dips down, made all the better by the feel of their bare chests against together. Komaeda’s cool to the touch, but it’s somehow still nice against his own flushed skin. “Here, wait,” Hinata mumbles and when Komaeda pauses, he scrambles awkwardly up the bed until he’s leaning against the headboard. “You can, uh, sit in my lap. Or something. If you want.”

Komaeda positively flies across the sheets and plants himself firmly in between Hinata’s legs. He’s known Komaeda was hard before – it had been pressing into his leg after all – but it’s impossible to ignore when they’re sitting instead of laying. Their lengths press together each time either of them shifts and despite the thick fabric of their jeans, that alone feels electric. Hinata can’t contain the breathy gasp that escapes him and he flushes, hoping that Komaeda hadn’t noticed.

Komaeda notices. Of course he does.

Much to Hinata’s relief, he doesn’t say anything, but his expression changes noticeably; from a content smile to a fascinated, almost smug smirk. He shifts again, but this time on purpose, pressing his thigh into Hinata’s cock and rocking down. And then he speaks, hesitantly. “I understand if it’s too much to ask for, Hinata-kun,” he starts. “But could I – can I –“ His hand twitches toward the front of Hinata’s pants, his actions explaining what his words are not.

Hinata doesn’t think he’s ever been this embarrassed in his life. Still, somehow he’s still hard – his dick, at the very least still wants Komaeda.

He bends his head, pressing his forehead into Komaeda’s shoulder to avoid looking h9ikm in the eye. “Yeah,” he says. “Take yours off first, but then yeah. You can.”

Komaeda gets out of his pants fast enough that he almost seems to blur. There’s some awkward shuffling around while he takes it off and an embarrassing moment when he realizes that he had never done the polite thing and taken off his shoes when he had entered. Still though, within moments, they’re off and he’s back in Hinata’s lap.

He isn’t wearing any underwear under his jeans, which is somehow both odd and exactly what he expected. For a moment, he’s too embarrassed to look. But Hinata’s only a teen really, and he’s horny, and Komaeda’s naked in his lap. His eyes flit down once and then away quickly, and then his gaze returns and lingers.

He seems remarkably unperturbed, sitting there straddling Hinata’s hips. Like he hadn’t even noticed the situation, like he hadn’t even noticed the position he’s in. He doesn’t mess around – his hand goes straight to Hinata’s pants and starts unbuckling and Hinata can’t remember being this hard in his life before

Komaeda doesn’t do the shuffling around with him. He gets Hinata’s pants far enough down to get at his underwear, then draws his cock out without hesitation. He seems more excited at the prospect of Hinata getting off than Hinata is.

“I want to suck you,” he says, breathless, starry-eyed. Languidly, he pumps at Hinata’s cock. His hand is dry, his grip a little too firm, and yet just-right. “Can I? Please?”

It’s not like Hinata’s going to say no.”Sure,” he says.

Komaeda gets right to it without delay. He slides himself down Hinata’s body, skin scraping against skin until he’s where he wants to be, with his face in between Hinata’s legs.

He takes the time to pull Hinata’s clothes all the way down this time, until they’re bunched up around his shoes. He’s certain that he looks ridiculous like this, but Komaeda doesn’t seem to notice or care. Really, he’s too distracted to be thinking of trivial thoughts like that, with Komaeda’s face down by his crotch and his hot breath puffing against his cock every time he exhales.

He expects _some_ sort of hesitation, or nervousness, or anxiety. There isn’t any, though. Komaeda looks incomparably happy sucking his dick and he does it like this is what he was born to do. His mouth stretches around Hinata’s tip as he sucks him down and Hinata can’t help but moan at the feel.

It’s not like he’d never thought about it before, but getting sucked off had been an abstract concept before, something he fantasized about but never expected to happen. He’d thought about what it might feel like, but his imagination hadn’t prepared him for the reality of Komaeda’s wet mouth around him, the rough of his tongue dragging against the underside of his cock. He can’t help the small sounds he makes, can’t stop his hips from rocking forward and shoving himself deeper down his throat. His hands go to Komaeda’s hair, just as pale as the rest of him, and he digs his hands in and pulls, the way he’s wanted to since the moment he saw him on the beach. He guides the tempo with rhythmic tugs.

Komaeda doesn’t complain – rather he seems pleased. His hands come around to Hinata’s backside, groping, encouraging him to thrust harder into his mouth and he almost gags as he does it, but he loves it. He moans around Komaeda’s cock each time it hits the back of his throat and the vibration makes Hinata shudder and go harder.

It’s like he was made for sucking dick. He’s inexperienced at this, that’s obvious enough; a mess of saliva and Hinata’s precome dribbles over his chin.  Still, he’s good at it and he obviously loves doing it. It’s obvious enough in the kisses he presses to Hinata’s cock and the way he ruts into the bed, uncontrollably turned on just by the act.

“Stop, stop,” Hinata pants. “Stop.”

He does and looks up, curiously. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks and then sits up properly. “Ah, if I did then I’m sorry Hinata-kun!”

“That’s not it,” Hinata says. He looks away. “If you kept doing that, I was going to come. And you haven’t – you know.”

“That’s fine!” he says back instantly. “I wanted you to do it in my mouth.”

Hinata doesn’t get how Komaeda can say things like that without a care. It’s like he doesn’t have the capacity to get embarrassed. “Whatever,” he mumbles. “Just come up here, would you?”

“Of course!” Komaeda says. “How do you want me?”

“However.”

Komaeda does crawl back up so that they’re once again face to face, at eye level. He puts himself back into Hinata’s lap, being wary of Hinata’s still tangled pants. Once he’s there, it’s simple enough for Hinata to lean in to kiss him again – it’s easier, even, because this way he doesn’t have to suffer the embarrassment of looking him in the eye and he gets to muffle the embarrassed sounds he can’t seem to stop making.

Komaeda tastes different, saltier, coarser. Hinata realizes that it’s the taste of himself on his tongue. It’s different – it adds something new. It’s immensely gratifying to know that Komaeda’s red lips are swollen from being stretched around his cock only moments before. It’s gratifying to know that Komaeda would do it again at a moment’s notice, of his own free will. He can’t feel Komaeda’s tongue rub against his own without imagining him sucking his dick and before he knows it, his hands are at the skin of Komaeda’s bare waist, tugging him into motion. As Komaeda rocks down against him, he thrusts up and their dicks slip against each other, aided by the leftover saliva and their combined precome.

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda pants. “Hinata-kun, _please_.”

Komaeda grasps Hinata’s hands in both of his, upsetting the tempo they’ve established. He brings them both to his lips and presses reverent kisses against the backs of his hands, his palms, up and down the length of his fingers. Then, gently, as if teetering on the edge of a precarious cliff, he arranges them both around his neck.

“What?” Hinata asks, perplexed and incoherent.

“Please,” Komaeda repeats. It’s obvious that he expects to be pushed away or rejected. It looks like he’s prepared himself for either. Hinata’s not sure he likes what Komaeda’s implying, but he can’t bring himself to crush Komaeda’s hope like that.

He squeezes. Komaeda’s neck is frighteningly thin and brittle, but Komaeda cries out and bucks wildly at the first hint of pressure, so he hangs on.

“Tell me if I really hurt you,” he says desperately. Komaeda doesn’t answer verbally, but he makes a jerking motion that could be interpreted as a nod. Already, his face is starting to flush and tears are welling up in his eyes. Hinata makes to let go, concerned, but Komaeda stops him.

“Not yet,” he says and he doesn’t make eye contact. “Please?”

So Hinata presses on his windpipe again and Komaeda squirms wildly in his lap. Komaeda’s hand comes down to grasp both of their lengths in his hand. He jerks them in time with the heartbeats Hinata can feel thumping under his fingers, uncoordinated and wild. Komaeda’s mouth falls open around a moan, but no sound comes out. He pants, his body desperate for air that won’t come.

His hand slows down, but Hinata’s right at the edge already. One last thrust up into Komaeda’s palm, against Komaeda’s cock, and he’s coming. His vision goes white as he rides out his orgasm. All he can hear is his heart pumping in his ears; all he can feel is Komaeda’s heart pumping under his clenched fingers.

He comes to slowly, in a daze. He pries his fingers off of Komaeda’s neck, but Komaeda doesn’t move.

“Komaeda?” he whispers. There is no response. The room feels suddenly very large, and very silent.

Hinata checks his pulse. It’s still there, sluggish under the finger-shaped bruises already beginning to darken onto his skin. Feeling guilty, he decides there’s nothing he can do but wait for him to make up.

In the mean time he makes his tired body get up and move. He goes to the bathroom to wash himself off, finally getting his pants off properly, before retrieving a washcloth and bringing it back to the bed. Komaeda must have come at some point before passing out, because his stomach is covered in come. Hinata sets to scrubbing off the tacky fluid before it can dry much more. The sheets he decides to leave for the morning.

Hinata settles back into the bed just as Komaeda begins to wake up.

“If it was too much, you should have told me to let go,” he says accusingly, avoiding his eyes.

“Ah? It wasn’t too much,” he denies. His eyes are still dazed, but there’s already a smile on his face. “It was perfect. Thank you, Hinata-kun! You didn’t have to indulge me like that.”

“Of course it was too much! You were unconscious!”

“It wasn’t too much,” Komaeda says again. “I didn’t die, after all! And I knew you would stop before that, so it’s okay, isn’t it?”

Hinata tsks; he can feel irritation beginning to bubble up in his throat, ruining his afterglow. He drops the topic, because he can tell that Komaeda will only keep arguing.

“You can stay here,” he says. “Tonight. If you want. Or you can go back, if you’d prefer that.”

“I’d love to stay!” Komaeda says instantly. He flops down, settling himself into Hinata’s arms and tangling their legs together with a pleased sigh. His head is tucked somewhere in the junction of Hinata’s neck and shoulder. It’s not entirely comfortable, and Hinata had expected for them to at least put on some clothes before falling asleep.

Still, Komaeda looks peaceful and already half-asleep. Hinata is loathe to move him now, so he grumbles, but does not move him.

The next morning, Komaeda wakes him up early and sucks him off until Monokuma’s morning announcement goes off. Then he disappears back to his own cabin, leaving Hinata to get dressed and ready for the day by himself.

**Author's Note:**

> ...looking back, Komaeda never did use the stuff he lifted, did he? welp.
> 
> first fic in this fandom guys. also, I'm only on chapter 3 so forgive any character inaccuracies or stuff that counters future canon.
> 
> unedited because i'm a lazy shit.


End file.
